#『 𝐒𝐔𝐏𝐏𝐎𝐑𝐓 — alm. 』

[alfvangr]

lost his wings and fell to earth

starter for @rudlm | [Grants +1 Sword]

“Franzi Pans…?” The name is gaudily splashed across the flyers plastered to the walls, advertising a seminar on swordsmanship from ‘the most famous knight in Leicester.’ Alfonse feels like he’s heard it somewhere before—but that’s all it is, a vague sense of familiarity that may not even be real. Face pinches into a frown when ocean blues discover the fee for attending Pans’ seminar; much as he truly wants to believe the best of others, the skeptic in him can’t very well ignore the possibility of greed and deception at work.

( a loud sneeze resounds through the halls of a certain castle, and anna wonders if someone is talking about her where she can’t hear. )

Looking into the matter further leads the prince to more flyers scattered throughout the monastery, their contents declaring Pans a fraud and confirming his suspicions to be at least justified even without the existence of hard evidence to prove it absolute. If the person behind these flyers has already done the bulk of the research into Pans’ credibility—it takes a special kind of dedication to read through 27 books in a single night—the logical next step would be to take direct action. …And hope that everyone will be able to get their money back afterward.

“Thanks for coming~! Go in and have a seat before the seminar begins,” the people standing by the doors intone in perfect unison, saccharine and cheery in such a manner that, quite honestly, makes Alfonse’s skin crawl. It’s an ill omen if he’s ever seen one; the prince puts on his most polite smile regardless as he passes them and enters the lecture hall, eyes searching for perhaps a familiar face’s company to fill the space with something other than the chatter of those he is less acquainted with.

“Oh Brother, that’s not the attitude you use when looking for friends,” he thinks in a poor imitation of Sharena’s voice. But these people aren’t his friends—he may grow comfortable around them, go through the motions commonly associated with friendship, but he cannot become attached. It’ll only make leaving harder when the time comes for them to return to Askr and leave this version of Fódlan behind.

( he tells himself this time and time again, as if doing so will make the guilt easier to bear. it doesn’t. )

He should be relieved when he finds Alm among the rows of chairs. They’re in the same house, and they get along well, but it’s plain to see that something is wrong when Alfonse draws closer to his fellow Lion: Alm’s normally affable demeanor is virtually absent, replaced with despondency such that Alfonse wonders what could have happened for the other to look so gloomy.

...Oh. Right. It’s not that he’d forgotten, but more immediate concerns had pushed thoughts of the Valentian couple’s fallout to a far corner of his mind. Sharena would try to cheer him up if she were here. But she isn’t, and thus it falls to him to at least do something. “Alm? I hope it’s not an issue if I take this seat; you seem as though you could use some company... or a listening ear, should you wish to divulge what’s on your mind.”

[alfvangr]

He spots blue in the crowd. The student sticks out like a sore thumb what with their student attire, and though he is not alone, it's... still obvious. Painfully so. (Ah, but he's sure he would have come in his academy attire, were it not for Grandfather.) Alm takes a free glass from champagne and a glass of water, walks over to the student, and offers the glass of champagne to him. "I don't believe we've met. My name is Alm. Are you new? What house are you in?"

It would be a lie to say he isn’t curious about the champagne being offered during this occasion. He’s had wine before—what kind of prince would he be if he hadn’t—but other kinds of liquor were seldom to his taste (he doesn’t understand at all how anyone can willingly drink beer). Periodically, his eyes will drift toward the table where the beverage is being served in stemmed glasses, though he has yet to actually take one for himself. Why, you ask?

Because despite the one-glass limit enforced by the faculty, his sister has somehow had enough of the drink to be visibly intoxicated. Alfonse watches with mild exasperation as Sharena dances with Gerome and, judging by the frequent movement of her lips, is talking the poor man’s ears off with whatever comes to mind in her current state. No, he’ll remain sober in case she ends up needing a hand later…

…Or at least, that was his plan until a familiar head of green hair approached him with a glass of champagne as an offering. Gloved fingers reaching to accept the drink, he listens as Alm introduces himself and gets asked about his own status as a student before taking a sip.

It’s… bubbly. Definitely not something he expected, but it isn’t bad by any stretch of the imagination. Not too sour, but not overly sweet either; it’s almost a pity he’s only allowed the one glass now. (Perhaps it’s for the best. He could never bear to make a fool of himself because he had too much to drink.)

“I’m Alfonse,” he replies. “I’ve only recently become a student here, as part of the Blue Lions. Which house are you in, Alm?”